Friday, January 04, 2008
Abroad, above, below, behind,
Revealed full plain to see:
The truth unwinds to those not blind
To man's iniquity.
The moon must monthly hide her face
Above this sorry show;
And stars endure with chilly grace
What prospers here below.
The lamps beneath the bushels hide
To flicker there unseen;
Dishonest men in pride abide
And all that's true demean.
The foolish mill about in herds
With slouch and downcast eye;
The stones cry out for honest words,
Yet dares no voice reply.
The wicked now their gain compute
While others but bewail;
If good men keep their counsel mute,
Then evil will prevail.
© 2007 Jeffrey Hull